Assassin's Nightmare
by luffietherocker
Summary: Story takes place in the beginning of the assassins creed plot line, right before he is kidnapped by the Templar and forced into the animus by Vidic and Lucy yet here there's a twist. Instead of the Templar the Assassin's find him first. More specific is an Assassin named Shaun Hastings. The story goes from there and centers around a repetitive nightmare of Desmond's "Twisted Fate.


_He was running, well rather fleeing up a building to the rooftops; Well above the average new-york passer by in the streets. It would have been an ideal escape route had his pursers who ever they were, had not been shooting at him from below. Lucky for him they couldn't climb like he could._

_Desmond had almost made it to the top thus getting away, but on that one final leap, he gets shot. The bullet strikes true into his flesh, then his spine severing through it. He dies near instantly as his lifeless body begins to fall making the descent back to the ground below._

However when Desmond Mile's body hits the ground, he wakes up.

Laying in a puddle of his own sweat, in a semi cushy bed, the sheets strewn aside, his heart racing a million miles per minute. Desmond's brain is in a daze but slowly he returns back into his current reality.

This was the 8th time in a row that he had been prematurely awoke by this dream, each time it was so vivid, that even while awake he could replay it in his head. Always being chased, attacked, and having to run for his life. No matter what he did each time, the results also stayed the same. He died. Desmond, would die.

Of course Desmond had to admit that they were only dreams, but then again that didn't change the fact that by now they were starting to freak him out. Correction, they were majorly freaking him out and really starting to interfere with his sleep.

People always seem to say things would happen for a reason, or at-least that's what Desmond had been taught. The creed: "_Nothing is true, Everything is permitted." He didn't believe in coincidence._

But the creed however, was something that he had left behind, as he denied his birthright and heritage. Denied the assassin's order and made his escape from the farm.

Groaning he decides to roll over in the bed, pulling the blankets back over him having obtained a chill from all the sweat. However sleep still manages to elude his grasp and there is no let up. Some half a hour or so later he gets up but its still way to early for him to head to work. His shift down at the bar didn't start until around 3 that day.

Starting in the evening and working until last call was his daily routine. Or should he say nightly here in the city that never sleeps. New-york city, was a place where you either made it big and rose upon the skylines or broke trying.

When he had wandered out (after getting dressed and donning his trademark hoodie of course) it was still partially in the middle of the night, he'd only been asleep a full 2 and a half hours before being awoken, that was of course after getting home around 2:30 am since he had a bit of a commute from the bar to the apartment he leased. The time was now 5 am; The sky was rather dark still yet people were already emerging from there slumbers to start a busy day.

His shift at the bar wasn't for a while now, and he had limited pocket money so Desmond just decided to fool around the town for the time being.

* * *

Soon it was 9:00pm at the bar and nearing happy hour, yet another patron had approached the bar. This person happened to be a regular there as of now, some one Desmond had gotten to know in the past few weeks of his showing up every night. Now he didn't look like the average type of person who would come to a place like this however, he looked rather smart and intellectual with his glasses and medium brown hair. Always wearing a collared shirt with a sweater on top and some rather fitting jeans. Nothing about this man screamed out that he was an alcoholic in the least. His name, was Shaun Hastings, and Desmond had found himself starting to like the guy.

Shaun took a seat at the bar on the stool right in front of Desmond greeting him with his rather British accented hello.

"What will it be man, a Light Beer, Cuba Libre... or..." Desmond adds jokingly pitching in a side remark "I could make you one of my oh so famous Shirley Templar's."

It is then the other mans gaze turns just a little more serious in nature but it quickly fades with a chuckle, "No thank you Desmond just make it a Black Russian if you may."

This happens to bring a small grin to his face, never had Shaun in the past few weeks ceased to surprise him. At first he was a tad more reserved, and only was ordering safer more simple and less alcoholic drinks, but as time went on Desmond started to notice a slight increase in content and the variety of the mans orders. He wondered if he was becoming more stressed, or if it was just him being a bit more bold. "Sure is everything alright?" He ponders just a tad concerned for the other man. While it wasn't his job or place, he still couldn't help but hold concern for some of the people who came in through the bars doors. A few of which he happened to score with, a couple women here and there and every once in a while the occasional man. Desmond would never consider him self gay, that still didn't change the fact of which he enjoyed the occasional male hook up. He happened to work the bar nearly every day of the week minus Sundays of course, thoose were his off days and something about Shaun, just told him everything probably wasn't hunky-dory. To put it simply from all the time he had spent with the other man while working the bar he had placed together a slight picture of his personality.

Mixing the drink before sliding it over to Shaun his eyes rest lazily upon the man. After a few moments and sips from the glass he finally answers him, "I know what you are Desmond, and its not safe here..."

"Excuse me?" To say such a statement had shocked him was an understatement. In fact Desmond was astounded to hear the words not to mention a little bit frightened. Yet rationally keeping his cool, he pry's to figure out just how much the man knows.

Shaun frustratedly shakes his head as he wonders how much it will take to get through to the man, he never really was fond of idiots, well not usually. And so far while he had to admit that Desmond had the looks and the charm, he still hadn't proved himself as anything more than your common bartender. Yet he was an assassin, and Shaun had to give him that, even if he wouldn't give it to him self. "I Don't understand, I am just a bartender you know that Shaun." Des adds trying to get more out of him as well as clear his innocence.

Shaun's eyes meet Desmond before letting go of the glass. "You are an assassin Desmond. You can not deny that and they will come after you, just like the did me."

Then to tell the truth, now the bartender is more than just simply shocked, actually he almost drops and breaks the glass he had been cleaning so he quickly places it and the rag down before leaning in close over the bar. Elbow resting upon the sleek wooden surface of it to look him in the eyes, before whispering to him so only he can here him, "Now... just how did you find that out?"

Outwardly Des seemed as if he was keeping his cool, but he knew that a nerve had been hit, an assassin is always the most dangerous when his cover is blown. Shaun knew he had to play this safe but there was just something about Desmond that made him almost want him. That and he rather needed to throw him off or in the least calm him, down before a head was lost. Not that he expected him to kill him or anything. He knew his skills were becoming rusty, and personally Shaun wasn't much a fighter himself either.

Desmond despite everything after leaving the farm, was desperate not to go back, and couldn't stop thinking of his nightmare. Maybe this had to do with it, maybe the assassins were coming for him, maybe it was them who were going to kill him, after all they always seemed like just a crazy cult.

"Because you fool I am one to, I found you out a few days ago after some research and I just had to confirm it. Your listed in their data bases Desmond. The Templar's have a hit out on you."

"Fuck." A million and one things rambled throughout his brain but all the ex assassin could get out that was a complete non jumbled statement was fuck. "Templar, templar, templar's that's all you guys ever go on about. You and your dumb cult, Templar don't exist, assassins are not needed."

Not able to believe the foolishness of the man he interjects on his thought, "No Desmond there very real and Abstergo is only a fraction of there public face. They have real power and want you dead Desmond, you need to leave. We need to leave."

Quickly the non-believing man is about to pull away from the other male and make a bolt for the back room but then the Brit reaches out and pulls Desmond into a kiss and he's about to pull away but then Shaun grabs a fistful of his hoody only bringing him closer.

To say Desmond's mood changed would be an understatement, actually what rather surprised the man was that after a moments hesitation Desmond actually kissed him back. It seems like he would be full of surprises which of course was something that Shaun wouldn't really mind.

The assassin's lips tasted sweet almost like honey but being an experienced bartender he knew it wasn't the alcohol either. None of the ingredients would have had that taste, and oddly despite wanting to get away from him, because he knew what and who he was, it only made him want more. Des leans in just a little deepening the kiss getting a little lost in it, not realizing the fact that they were still at his work until Shaun's tongue prodded the bartender's lower lip asking for entrance. Desmond quickly pulled away leaving a confused Brit while he himself, was slightly dazed by the sudden change in events.

"What the fuck are you thinking I could be fired!?" Desmond quickly blurts out in attempt to hide the fact that he was kind of getting into it, his will to get out of there put on hold. Blushing deeply he looks at Shaun expecting an answer but couldn't exactly muster up the gusto to look mad.

The other assassin just chuckles before leaning back on the bar-stool but grins with a satisfied smirk of which is rarely seen upon the face of the intelligence officer. "Oh but you cant say you weren't enjoying it~" Then he glances around warily gaze becoming a bit more serious. "But I wasn't kidding we have to leave."

"Oh no, I'm not going anywhere, not with you and not with anyone else."

Then the assassin just shakes his head, "Your making it harder than this has to be Desmond."

Desmond hastily gets back to working on stuff around the bar half ignoring the other man.

"They want you Desmond and if they get you not only will they kill you but they will make your life, a living hell." He was being serious, beyond serious rather and from the tone alone it caught Desmond's attention. Then flash backs of that dream kept coming to him as he slowly begun to deteriorate.

_He was running for his life the unknown, faceless aggressors hot on his tail. Sirens whistled while gun shots went off and someone was calling his name._

_"Desmond!"_

_"Desmond!?"_

"Desmond you bloody there? Were you even listening to me? I said we got to go. Now, a few of them are here!" Shaun hastily whispered to the bartender his tone slightly more urgent and eyes wide as if who ever they were had been breathing right down his neck and he just knew he had to get the other's attention.

"Where?" He quickly looks around eyes darting from patron to patron. Then the colors change and out of the crowd of white there are three guys in the back glowing bright red. "Whoa what the fuck?" He quickly shrinks back some blinking and suddenly his vision goes back to normal. "I think I found them."

Shaun looks back and around as well though a bit more discreet. "Yeah, In the back."

"My shifts almost over." The bartender states as he looks at the clock.

Rolling his eyes he then sighs rather frustratedly. "Forget your shift idiot there are Templar's in the bar, we need to get you and I the hell out of here."

Getting rather irked even though he agrees with Shaun's hast he still looks determined to stay till the end of the shift. After all, today was payday and they would need the money.

"To bad, we're waiting it out."

"Desmond, you are a bloody idiot."

* * *

_AN: I hate to cut it off, but it is getting rather long... I hope to upload a part two soon. This really wasn't meant to be any more than a one-shot but now it seems it may become a two or three. Reviews are indeed nice, and I would love to hear another opinion. Hopefully I didn't make either of them too oc... And also, im not much an expert on drinks, and while I would love to learn bar-tending at my age the only thing im legally able to do is sit back and watch the pro's. Also for anyone wondering a Black Russian is a mixed coffee alcoholic drink. Le guy I watch on you-tube makes it with Kahlua however the fuuu that's spelled... Hope you enjoyed this._

_Saphira Luffie._


End file.
